Christmas with the Lynleys
by Cats070911
Summary: A snapshot of one Christmas at Howenstowe. Merry Christmas everyone.


**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

Merry Christmas everyone. Many thanks for your support by reading my Inspector Lynley tales again this year. Thanks also to all who noticed my last story was my 100th as Cats (3 or 4 more as part of the SisterSnorfl syndicate). Wow! I started off planning to write one! I always enjoy writing them and am amazed to see the exotic and far-flung places some of my regular readers reside. Thanks to all who leave frequent or infrequent comments. I always get a kick out of seeing them pop-up in my email and find out that you have enjoyed this or that, laughed at my jokes or choked up at the emotional bits.

By many standards, 2016 has been a crazy year. We have lost some icons, and seen anger terrorise and rip apart countries as hate began to triumph over brotherly love. Wishing everyone a safe and joyous festive season, and may the world settle into a kinder and more compassionate 2017!

This story is for one loyal reader who always wants to know what their life together would be like. And yes, I know in many countries presents are given on Christmas Eve, but here I have used the Australian way - on Christmas morning.

* * *

"Daddy, where's Mummy?"

Tommy looked up from his desk to see his young son wander into his study dragging Mr Bear by the ear. Matthew had his slippers on the wrong feet but had managed to pull on his woollen dressing gown over his Muppets pyjamas. It always amused Tommy that the boy was so proud of his robe because it had his initials, MTL, embroidered on the pocket. Barbara joked that being a poncy earl-in-waiting was definitely genetic.

"She's gone into Nanrunnel. She'll be back soon, Matthew."

Tommy picked the lad up and settled him on his knee. Mr Bear fell into the carpet and Tommy leant over and picked him up. "Careful, Mr Bear fell on his head."

"He's tired."

"Yes, he should be in bed." Tommy ruffled his son's dark hair. "And you should be keeping him company."

"I'm not tired, Daddy."

"Do you want to help me wrap Mummy's Christmas presents?"

The young boy nodded. "Okay."

"Mr Bear can watch. It doesn't matter if he falls asleep." Tommy put the almost threadbare teddy on a chair then lifted his son to sit on the desk. "I've already wrapped this one, but we have to add a ribbon. Can you help me?"

The boy nodded eagerly. "Yes, Daddy."

"Right. Put your finger there and when I say 'now' then you have to pull your finger away." Tommy quickly tied a bow then slowly tightened it. "Get ready. Almost, almost, okay - now! Good boy! See doesn't that look pretty?"

"Yes."

His son's gurgling laugh always enchanted him. "Do you want to wrap another one?"

"Is it a baby brovver?"

"No." Tommy frowned. It was the first time Matthew had ever indicated he wanted a sibling. "Would you like a baby brother or sister?"

"Brovver. I don't want a girl."

"Mummy's a girl, and you like Mummy."

"No, she's not a girl." Matthew made girl sound slightly nastier than bubonic plague. "She's Mummy."

At five, Tommy did not think he needed to explain why Mummy was a girl. He'd save that conversation for another few years yet.

"Mummy said only you could give her my brovver."

"Did she? Well, I didn't buy her one for Christmas." Tommy thought it was an unusual observation. "Has Mummy spoken to you about a bother?"

"She was crying about it."

Tommy was startled. Barbara always seemed philosophical about their failure to add to their family. "When was that, Matthew?"

"When you went to Wondon."

That was only a few weeks ago. Tommy made a note to ask Barbara. He changed the subject by opening a velvet case to show Matthew the necklace he had bought for Barbara. "Do you like it?"

A stubby finger pointed at the emerald. "Like her eyes."

"Yes, that's why I bought it." Tommy closed the box. "Now hold this end of the paper while I sellotape this side."

* * *

There had been snow on the road, and Barbara had driven very slowly. The Range Rover was surprisingly easy to drive despite its size. Tommy had insisted on her having a bigger car after Matthew had been born. At first, Barbara had complained that he might as well have bought her a tank, but she had grown to appreciate the space and extra visibility.

She expected to find Tommy in his study. Instead, he was in Matthew's room, reading the boy a story. She stood at the door and watched while her husband imitated an aeroplane and a rabbit. She laughed as he screwed up his face around his front teeth and made clicky chomping noises.

"Mummy!"

Barbara crossed the room and sat on the bed. She managed to give Tommy a quick kiss before swallowing her son in a big hug. "Why are you awake young man?"

"I was helping Daddy!"

"Daddy's big enough not to need help this late." She looked at Tommy who shrugged. "Now you and Mr Bear need to sleep or Santa might think you're being naughty."

"Yes, Mummy."

Barbara and Tommy kissed their son. "Sleep well."

Outside Matthew's door, Tommy kissed Barbara. "I was getting worried."

They began to walk to their bedroom. "There was snow up on the ridge. I think it's going to be a white Christmas."

"Did you like him?"

"He's gorgeous. Such dark brown eyes. A bit like yours. Matthew will love him. It'll be fun to have a dog around. Once he's house-trained."

"I'll pick him up tomorrow. We can hide him in our bathroom overnight."

They undressed and climbed into bed. Barbara laughed as she nestled into his arms. "We both know he'll cry and end up in bed with me."

"You? Where will I be?"

"You have to play Santa. You'll be busy drinking your milk and eating your biscuits. And this year don't forget to empty some water out of the buckets for the reindeer and pick up their carrots. Matthew was worried they'd be hungry last year."

"Yes, dear." Tommy rolled his eyes before kissing her tenderly. "Speaking of crying, Matthew said you'd been crying when I was in London."

Barbara was dismissive. "I missed you; that's all."

Tommy stroked her hair. "Matthew told me what is was about."

"Your son has a big mouth."

Barbara began to roll away, but Tommy held her firmly against him. "You know it doesn't matter to me about having more children. There are plenty of well-adjusted only children in the world. If it happens, it's nice. If not, then we still have a beautiful little family."

"I know, but you need a spare. If anything were to happen to Matthew..."

"If anything happened to him, the last thing on my mind would be who was heir to the damned title."

"I know, but..."

"No buts." He kissed her tenderly. "We can keep trying. That bit is no effort at all."

"Mmm." Barbara ran her hand over his thigh.

"If tomorrow you're going to sleep with the puppy, then all the more reason for us to enjoy tonight."

* * *

The next day was hectic. Matthew had a party at the Kindergarten and Barbara had taken him by herself. He had spent ten minutes pouting when Tommy had told him he could not come with them because he had to go and pick up Grandma. Seeing the other children soon made Matthew forget. After the party, Barbara had to confine Matthew to the kitchen where he would not be able to see his father's car return. She felt sorry for Tommy having to manage his mother and an eight-week-old puppy in the same vehicle.

"Are you going to help me wrap Daddy's presents?"

Matthew ran ahead and hopped up onto the wooden kitchen chair. Barbara very slowly wrapped the gifts, stalling for as long as possible. Tommy was under instructions to send in Grandma while he settled the pup.

"You're slow, Mummy."

Barbara hid her smile. "Was Daddy faster?"

Matthew nodded. "But his presents are smaller."

Barbara laughed. "Never mind. I'm sure I'll still like it."

"You will," her son said firmly.

"Why is that?"

"Because Daddy picked them."

She smiled; Matthew was his father's son. "Yes, yes I will. Did you think Daddy will like his books and CDs?"

Matthew looked at the book they were wrapping. It was thick and full of writing. He screwed up his nose. "Yeah, but only because you give it to him."

Barbara did not try to explain his father's passion for first editions. She finished the ribbon then put them back into the bag. At the bottom was one she had wrapped earlier away from the prying eyes of the future Earl. She leant down and kissed him. "Well as long as you like yours."

"One more sleep!"

"Yes, Santa comes tonight. You have to go to bed as soon as we finish dinner. Grandma might read you a story if you're a good boy."

"I might."

Barbara smiled at her mother-in-law. "Hi, Dorothy. How was your trip?"

"Eventful."

Matthew leapt off the chair and ran over to his grandmother. He hugged her hard then stepped back. "Did you wee yourself, Grandma?"

Barbara was not sure what made her laugh harder - her son's reaction, the indignant look on Dorothy's face, or Tommy's laugh. He had entered the kitchen just in time to see the episode unfold. It did not take much imagination for Barbara work out what had happened. The thought of the pup urinating on Lady A was just too funny, and she struggled to control her own bladder. Finally, she was able to keep a straight face.

Dorothy tried to remain dignified. "I think I might go and freshen up before dinner."

No sooner was she out of the room than Barbara began to laugh again. Tommy lifted Matthew and hugged Barbara. They were all laughing so hard they forgot why.

* * *

Tommy fed the reindeer carrots to the horses then carefully tipped out different amounts from the eight buckets of water. He began to walk back to the house then turned and used his heel to knock one over. Statistically, it was unlikely that eight harnessed reindeer would manage to drink without tipping over at least one bucket. Next year he was going to suggest Santa's reindeer should use the horse trough.

Tommy drank half the milk and ate the three chocolate biscuits even though he had been told to put them back in the tin. He had to eat at least one so he could leave crumbs. Matthew had his mother's eye for detail and innate suspicion. Without crumbs, he might tumble onto the trick.

His final task was to fill Matthew's stocking. Barbara was good at finding and wrapping multiple small, inexpensive items so that it seemed a lot but did not spoil him too much. Santa's main present was a Star Wars Lego kit, and Tommy was looking forward to helping his son put it together. If someone had suggested to him five years ago that he would become adept at constructing Lego, he would have laughed. It had not been a difficult choice to leave London and return to Cornwall. After two weeks of being partnered with others after their relationship was made public, he and Barbara had both realised that the Met was not their future. One romantic weekend in Spain had sealed their fate. When Barbara became pregnant, Tommy had insisted she stop work. They had rowed about him being a dictator, but she had agreed as soon as he offered to resign too. He knew Barbara worried that without her to look after him, he would end up in gaol or at the wrong end of a knife. It had taken him another week to persuade her that Howenstowe was better than London to raise a young child. She agreed now, watching the way Matthew ran around and enjoyed the open spaces.

Next year Matthew would be old enough to learn to ride. He hoped it would be easier teaching him than it had been with Barbara. She had taken weeks to master the simplest commands on his most genteel and compliant horse. She would never be graceful, but at least now she could ride competently and without constant complaint.

Tommy leant the oversized stocking next to the unlit fireplace. He looked around and checked. All his tasks were finished. On his way to bed, he checked on Matthew. The boy was sound asleep cuddling Mr Bear.

"All done?" Barbara asked when he opened the bedroom door.

"Yes." He glanced at the clock. "We should get four or five hours sleep before the little hurricane wakes up. How's the pup?"

Barbara was lying on her side. Nestled in against her chest was a little brown bundle of fluff. "He likes to snuggle up and hear my heartbeat."

"So do I." Tommy came over and gave the little fellow a tickle behind his ear. Beside the bed, Barbara had arranged a large plastic box with torn up newspapers lining it. "You seem to have everything well organised."

"I hope so. What did your mother say in the car?"

Tommy stripped off his clothes, settled on the bed beside her and propped himself up on his elbow. "It was priceless. The dog was on a newspaper. She told me to stop the car; then she held the poor little thing out the window till he finished and threw out the paper saying 'it's biodegradable'. There was no mention of him having wet her. I didn't know until Matthew blurted it out."

"The thought of your mother..."

"Don't start laughing again. You'll wake the pup." Tommy gave her shoulder a tender kiss then leant over her. "And you, little nameless thing, should be grateful. You're keeping me from making love to my wife, which at the moment is something I would very much like to do."

Barbara put her hand over the pup's ears and turned her head to Tommy. "Don't listen to him. He's just a randy old earl who thinks the... mmm... oh, yes, mmm. Maybe if we're careful."

* * *

Barbara had set her alarm for five-forty-five. They needed to have the pup downstairs before Hurricane Matthew woke up. She prodded Tommy in his side. "Time to get up."

"Already?" Her husband grumbled but got out of bed.

When he returned from the bathroom, she tossed him his navy blue silk pyjamas and matching robe with his initials on the pocket. Matthew liked it when they both wore their robes. So did Barbara. Matthew was a mini version of Tommy in so many ways. She found it adorable watching them together. She gave him a quick kiss and instructions about the puppy before disappearing into the bathroom.

Five minutes later she knocked loudly on Dorothy's door. She had been told most decisively that Grandma was not to miss Santa's presents. Barbara crept past Matthew's room. She could hear him talking to Mr Bear. He knew he was not allowed to come out until six o'clock.

"All done," Tommy said. He was bent over stoking the fire he had just lit.

"Not quite." Barbara added her presents under the big fir tree, except for one that she slipped into the pocket of her dressing gown.

Dorothy wandered in dressed in a long, flowing, chiffon-like robe that Barbara thought could easily have doubled as a ball gown. "Where's Matthew?"

"He will be here in a minute," Tommy said.

At the stroke of six, Matthew came running down the stairs! "Merry Christmas Mummy! Merry Christmas Daddy! Merry Christmas Grandma!"

"Merry Christmas, Matthew!" they replied in unison.

The lad's eyes darted everywhere, taking in all the sights. Barbara and Tommy stood arm-in-arm watching him. Slowly he approached the overflowing stocking. Tommy helped him lower it onto the floor then sat crossed-legged on the rug to help his son. Dorothy sat on the couch and Barbara grabbed their camera from the table ready to capture the memory.

While most children tend to rip open their presents, Matthew liked to pull them all out, line them up by the colour of the paper, then open them slowly by carefully undoing all the sellotape. It was nearly half an hour before he came to the big one. Barbara snapped three or four good photos of his eyes opening wide and then him dancing around with glee. The best photo though was the one where Matthew leapt onto Tommy and pushed him backwards onto the rug.

"Can we build it now Daddy?"

"Not yet, we have to open the presents from each other. Do you want to give them out this year?"

Matthew undertook his task with great solemnity, carefully looking at the tickets and then giving them to the recipient. Tommy had taught his son to read at very young age, and it made Barbara smile the way he read out the tags. "To Bar-bar-ra, with sin-sir-rest wishes, Peter. Mummy, it's from Uncle Peter."

One at a time each person opened a present, starting with the one they thought was least important. Gradually everyone had opened theirs until there was just one each left. Matthew watched carefully as Tommy unwrapped his first edition of Hemingway's 'A Farewell To Arms'. "Mummy! Daddy!" he complained as his parents shared a longer-than-necessary kiss.

Barbara loved her necklace, and Matthew helped to put it on. "I told Daddy it matched your eyes."

The boy patiently waited to open his while his parents kissed again. Tommy turned to him. "Okay, last one Matthew. This one's from Mummy and Daddy."

Barbara watched the confusion on her son's face. "The box is empty."

"No, have a look in the bottom."

"Go to the kitch-en." Her son leapt to his feet.

"Hang on, we have to go together," Tommy said as he took his son's hand.

Everyone walked to the kitchen. Tommy opened the door. "Now go in very quietly."

Matthew frowned then top-toed into the kitchen, looking around anxiously. When he spotted the box he walked over and cautiously peered in. "IT'S A PUPPY!"

The sleeping pup leapt to life and began to bark. Matthew reached in to pat him and received a sharp nip on his hand. Tommy came to the rescue. "He didn't mean to hurt you Matthew, but you frightened him." He lifted the puppy out of the box. "Now sit quietly and introduce yourself."

Undeterred by the nip, Matthew sat and nursed the dog, stroking the back and head of the little brown Labrador. "Good doggie. I'm Matthew. What's your name?"

"That's up to you," Barbara said, "you can name him."

Matthew sat stroking the pup for a few minutes before he spoke. "Cad-bwerry, because he looks like chocolate."

"Cadbury, that's an excellent name, Matthew." Tommy looked at his wife. "He's his mother's son; the first thing he thinks of is food."

Barbara wrinkled her nose at her husband - he would keep. "Now Matthew, you have to look after him. You have to help feed him and take him for walks and play with him."

"I will."

"Yes, because Mummy has enough trouble trying to feed us."

This time Barbara poked her tongue out at her husband. He was quickly forgiven when he ran his hand suggestively down her back while Dorothy and Matthew were playing with Cadbury.

"Dorothy, can you look after things here for a few minutes while Tommy and I go and get ready?"

Grandma had one arm full of wriggling grandson, and the other was trying to stop Cadbury clawing her dressing gown. "Take your time. I have everything under control."

* * *

Tommy was puzzled why Barbara needed to shower and change now. "What's the rush?" he asked as they entered their bedroom. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh, you want to continue where we left off last night do you?" He tried to kiss her.

"Thomas Lynley, for once can this not be just about sex?"

Tommy frowned. "Sorry."

"I have one more present for you, and I wanted us to be alone." Barbara pulled the small package from her pocket. "Merry Christmas."

"Thank you." He felt bad that he had not kept back any surprises. He opened the box and frowned. "A thermometer? Thank you, I think."

"It's not a thermometer. Turn is over."

Tommy did, and at first he could not react. He stared at the little digital reading - Pregnant 3+. "You're...?"

Barbara's smile was wider than the Atlantic. "Yes. That's why Matthew found me crying. I was happy!"

"You're sure?"

"I had Doctor Green confirm it."

Tommy understood what it meant to her. He was delighted. He picked her up and spun her around in a big circle. "I love you, Mrs Lynley."

"I love you too..." The rest was lost in his long and passionate kiss.

"You know Mother thinks we have come up here to make love?"

Barbara frowned. "Well, then I'd hate to disappoint her." She pushed him onto the bed and began to undo the cord on his robe.


End file.
